Kiersten’s hands moved to my pants. I lifted my body off her briefly so that I could slide them off.
But sliding hadn’t been her plan. She broke off our kiss and with a jerk used both hands to tug my pants down. I didn’t have time to stop her or tell her to go slower or try to be romantic—because her next action rendered me unconscious, or maybe just speechless?
Boxers? Gone.
Nothing.
But.
Skin.
If there was ever a time to cry tears of joy—now would be it. Kiersten wrapped her arms around my neck, and our bodies fit, so perfectly that it had to be a trick of the mind. How was that even possible?
I tried slowing down my kiss, the retreat was so hard it was painful, but Kiersten held onto my head so tight that I couldn’t help but plunge my tongue into the depths of her mouth and lose myself.
Kiersten let out a tiny moan as my hands moved to brace her hips, and then I slid inside her, slowly at first, only because I knew if I went any faster, I would cease to make the night memorable for her.
Kiersten’s hands dug into my back, causing me to arch up and take her with me… “Shit,” I muttered through clenched teeth. The friction of the movement almost made me black out.
“Oh…” Kiersten’s eyes fluttered open then closed. “Did I hurt you?”
“What?” I roared. “No, no, not hurting, definitely—” I stopped talking. What the hell was I doing? “Yeah, Kiersten, it hurts, right here.” I kissed her softly and then pushed farther into her, then retreated. “Think you could help with that?”
She shrugged innocently, then locked her legs behind my back, pulling me all the way into her body—inviting me in, coaxing me, killing me.
Sweet death.
Everything about her was warm—tight—perfect. I gritted my teeth together.
“How’s it feel now?” Her mouth met mine in a frenzied kiss.
“Like—” Control snapped. I pumped into her, taking her with me. “Perfection.”
The buildup of what we had gone through over the last year…
Exploded into such an intense feeling of satisfaction, belonging, rightness, that when my body reached its tipping point, I physically shook as every muscle tightened and then released. Kiersten’s soft cry washed over me as I carried her with me. Kiersten shuddered, waves of heat rolling off of her as I stayed put—never wanting to move from that position—ever.
Slowly, her green eyes opened, flashing with possession and a fierce type of love that made me want to cry. “I’m yours,” Kiersten whispered, while I caught my breath. “And you are mine.”
****
We stayed up all night.
And we weren’t playing cards. Not unless cards was a new code word for sex, and the game was to see how many times we could actually participate in said activities until I died of dehydration and/or jumped into Elliot Bay.
At around seven in the morning the next day, I went to make a cup of coffee for Kiersten. At some point in the middle of the night her hair had become possessed with a rat and was now wrapped around her head like a really scary looking towel after Chewbacca had used it.
Once the coffee was brewed, I brought a mug to bed and watched her sleep. Rays morning sun peeked through the window. How had I been so blessed? To be gifted with not only life but with her? A year ago I should have died—instead I had a wife. I had Kiersten. I didn’t want this moment to end, this morning. I wanted a thousand of them, a million, as many as my body could handle, that’s how many I wanted. Sighing with contentment, I pulled up the blinds letting sunlight stream into the room.
“Why?” Kiersten grumbled from her bed. It was a true miracle her hair hadn’t strangled her in her sleep. Her lips pressed together like she was trying not to smile.
“Why, what?” I set her mug on the bedside table.
“Why is there sun?”
Chuckling, I took a sip of coffee. “Oh you know, just this little thing called living…we need the sun in order to do it.”
“You,” Kiersten whispered. “I just need you.” She pushed the mop of hair out of her face and rose from the bed, the sheet pooling at her hips. Without looking down, she grabbed her coffee and started drinking.